


Worst Out of Two

by seaquestions



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Issues, Functionalism (Transformers), Gen, Minor Character Death, Pre-War, au where minimus is not a load-bearer, just a smidgen of minimegs, the oc is minimus' shitty dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaquestions/pseuds/seaquestions
Summary: This was fine, fine! Perhaps they were weaker, but two for the price of one? He could nurture them himself, raise them with the Ambus values, and this way, he had two chances to redeem himself.But Adaptus smiled, with his index finger like a metronome, and said no.(Dominus is the heir, Minimus is the spare. Or, what if justoneof them had a green spark?)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Worst Out of Two

Lexus Ambus of Ambustus Minor did not consider himself a lucky mech.

From the untimely death of his initiator, to his lackluster altmode, to his long and frustrating career in politics, Lexus found himself weary and drained of life. Adaptus save him, he was worn. He needed an heir.

Newsparks, in general, were not just _given_ to any mech in particular. When they emerge, they are nurtured, then harvested and then sent to a nearby city that would welcome them. Once they become fully grown mecha, they are either assigned or given the choice of a function that suits them, then go through the appropriate training process to eventually fulfill that function.

“Family bonds” tended to get in the way of things. 

Split-sparks who would refuse to be separated, batch brothers who grew up too close, mentors too attached to their mentees, they were all obstacles in the proper functioning of cybertronian society. Allowing regular mecha to raise their own sparkling from birth would only make things worse. Thus, the restriction. Only the noblest could be trusted with such a task.

Ambustus Minor was not home to a hot spot of its own. Thus, Lexus had to drive to the closest smithy, in Mesmerica, which wasn't close at all.

He was not looking to take just any spark. He wanted it to be perfect, to be the Ambus he never could have been. The blacksmiths at Mesmerica had handed him an incubator containing five tiny newsparks to take back to his estate. At this vulnerable stage, he should be able to add his own programming to try and influence the hard-coding of the spark. He wanted his heir to be intelligent, to be charismatic and influential. He wanted one who had something special about them.

Cycles passed and the incubator sat on his desk, checked on periodically. Promisingly, one of the sparklets was a pale turquoise, rather than baby blue like the others. Lexus held onto hope… and it seemed that finally, after all these years, Primus was smiling down at him. He had gotten exactly what he had wished for. A Point One Percenter. 

Carefully, he culled the batch, letting the bright green spark slowly absorb the energy from its weaker brethren until it grew big. 

When it started gently pulsing, he knew he had to run back to the smithy. The sentio metallico—there might not have been enough. He had gotten this lucky, and Lexus did not want to waste it. He had burst through the doors of the Mesmerica smithy, energon pumping through his cables.

And so it was unfortunate, that at the moment of harvest, the green spark had spasmed, and split in two. An heir and a spare, each melding into their sentio metallico to create a pair of tiny little sparklings.

This was fine, fine! Perhaps they were weaker, but two for the price of one? He could nurture them himself, raise them with the Ambus values, and this way, he had two chances to redeem himself.

But Adaptus smiled, with his index finger like a metronome, and said no. 

When they grew past the protoform stage, the two sparklings had turned out to have even worse altmodes than his own. He was, at least, an automobile.

 _They_ were turbofoxes. Beasts. _Dogs_.

Good grief. Truly, Lexus Ambus was an unlucky mech. All he wanted was a son, but the Gods had saddled him with two mechanimals to take care of instead. Would it be wrong to just throw them into the smelter and pretend nothing happened? He prayed, hoping at least _one_ of them would be worth keeping around.

That green spark had to have counted for something.

* * *

“Emirate Ambus.”

“Commander Magnus.”

“So, how does being an initiator feel?”

“Oh, exhausting,” he sighed, “They are both constantly running all around the mansion.”

Delta Magnus laughed. “It'll ease up soon enough, don't worry. I remember when Ultra was at that stage, he was quite the little rascal.”

The two old friends were having tea together one quiet evening, as they usually did when they both had the time. The titles were an inside joke. Lexus was no longer an Emirate, having been replaced by Xaaron, while Delta had retired from the Primal Vanguard a long time ago.

“How _is_ Ultra doing, by the way?” Lexus asked.

“Working hard, as usual,” Magnus said, taking a sip of his tea, “Such an overachiever, that one. He keeps saying that he wants to honour my legacy, but I feel as if I've already been surpassed a hundred times.” He chuckled.

“Of course.”

“And you, Lexus? Your offspring have surely gotten their alt-modes at this point, yes?”

“Yes,” he nodded, taking a moment to drink.

“Dominus is a minesweeper,” Lexus then said, confidently.

“Hm. Elegant design. And the other?”

“Minimus…” he hesitated, “I'm not sure if I should say.”

Delta Magnus leaned forward to speak in a low voice. “Oh, Lexus. How bad is it? Janitorial? Disposable?”

He looked away. “Worse.”

“…No. A Beast?” Delta breathed.

Lexus nodded, fiddling nervously with his facial insignia.

“I'm sure there's something you can do to make it less obvious at least,” said the larger mech, sympathetically, “Smooth out his plating? Dock his tail?”

“I did, both. It helped, sort of. It just made him look a little _too_ smooth, which is somewhat conspicuous.”

“Well,” Delta sighed, “I suppose that's better than the alternative. How does he act? Is his behaviour, ah, feral?”

Lexus folded his arms, “I wouldn't know. They are both young still.”

“Hm. Let us hope that nurture wins over nature, then,” Delta said solemnly, “At least you have Dominus.”

“…Indeed.”

At least he had Dominus.

* * *

“Father, do I really _have_ to wear this armour?”

“Yes, Dominus. You must.”

“Why?”

The problem with Dominus, was that he asked too many questions.

“Because I said so,” Lexus declared.

“But Mins doesn't have to wear it, so why should I?”

The elder Ambus sighed. “If your brother could wear it, he would. But he cannot, because he's too small and weak to wear such heavy plating.”

Dominus tilted his head in confusion. (Like a dog. Ugh. He'd have to correct those behaviours at some point.)

“But it's not heavy at all!”

Lexus put a hand on his heir's shoulder. “That's because you are _special_. You are a load-bearer, my son. You can carry the weight of the world on your shoulders without a sweat. That is why you must wear this armour.”

The mech straightened. “Your brother, he is fragile. You remember, how he broke his arm when you pushed him a little too hard while playing? He is weak. You, as the older brother, must protect him. That is why you have to wear this armour. Always.”

Dominus' optics shone a bright red, then he nodded. “Okay, father. I get it now. I gotta protect Mins!”

Meanwhile, in the corner, lying on the berth with his arm dented and slowly healing, Minimus had been awake to hear it all. Lexus was lying. He wanted Dominus to wear the armour so that the older twin didn't “look like a damned mechanimal” anymore. He heard him say it, earlier, while on the line with someone.

Minimus switched off his optics and went back to recharge. Dominus didn't get it at all.

* * *

“Minimus. Fetch me my datapads. File cabinet B-13, the first three.”

“Yes, sir,” he complied.

Minimus got it quite well at this point. He wore his double plating with grace, finally having grown enough to bear the weight. Not quite a shell, just a bit of false kibble to cover the head on his back, armour on his legs to make him taller and cover his paws, docked tail tucked neatly into subspace…

It still ached.

Tradition dictated that “obviously defective” offspring should have been offlined by now. Thankfully, he had been spared. Whether it was because Lexus could not bring himself to kill a newspark or if the mech feared that Minimus would take his twin down with him, he did not know. That was not important.

What _was_ important was this:

1\. He was still a member of the House and he would be allowed to bear its insignia;  
2\. But he will never represent it formally;  
3\. And he shall never reveal his beastly form to anyone;  
4\. Or he will be exiled, forever.

Simple.

“Your datapads,” Minimus said, holding them out to his initiator.

“Hrmph.”

Used to being ignored, Minimus simply put them down on Lexus' desk in front of him and went back to reading his book on the couch.

A digital copy of _The Interregnum: After Nova Prime_ was sent to him by Dominus from the Iacon Academy's bookstore. He could not have gotten the hard copy of it himself, because Lexus did not allow him to attend. Too risky, he said.

Minimus wasn't allowed to go out much. Even with the rest of his plating smoothed down, Lexus was still nervous. Even when he put on the false kibble to make himself look more vehicular, Lexus still never thought it was enough. Dominus wasn't even allowed to _mention_ him in public.

But that was all fine, truly. 

Truly.

“Minimus.”

“Yes?” he looked up from his page.

“Remind me to call Proteus in about… two hours.”

“Of course.”

Lexus was busy, nowadays. Xaaron moved to Kalis, on the other side of the planet, and no other Emirate had been appointed by the Prime, so the old Ambus was back to fill the role.

When Dominus announced his plans to move to Iacon for higher education, their initiator had wanted him to get into law, most likely so that he could retire, while still keeping House Ambus' legacy.

Unfortunately, his brother took an interest in science and philosophy.

Which was fine, of course. Lexus supported him completely. It helped that Dominus was genuinely brilliant. Lexus would not have been okay with it if he wasn't. He would have told him to abandon his dreams, for he was a fool to believe that he could even take a step towards living them, to accept his word as the law and to do exactly what he told him to do, all the time, because he was the only authority who even remotely cared for him.

Well, maybe not like _that_. But that would surely be the gist of it.

Surely.

In the meantime, as he waited for Lexus to bark more orders at him, Minimus read books, academic and otherwise, browsed forums and looked at poetry.

His personal favourites were from a nameless mech from Tarn who used to upload recordings of him performing his work. That rough, deep voice curled sensuously around his spark and squeezed tight, oh, Minimus felt embarrassed just thinking about it. It was a shame the mech didn't do those anymore. Still, Minimus followed his work; the mech seemed to be working on more transgressive pieces, these days, advocating for the rights of low-class mecha such as miners, disposables, and beastformers. It was interesting, to say the least. Yes.

He was interested.

* * *

The armour itched.

But, that was alright. He, Dominus Ambus, author of _The Ascetic Cybertronian_ , cared not for minor inconveniences like that.

He did not bother with trivial issues, did not engage in frivolous things. Pleasure was a distraction from the pursuit of truth, but so was pain. He would just have to endure, for the sake of his research.

Speaking of, he _may_ have just found a lead on the cure for cybercrosis. Yes, there were more important things to worry about…

But damn if he didn't feel like he was about to combust.

It had been a while since he smoothed down his spikes. The last time must have been before he left for Iacon. They were starting to scrape against the inner walls of his minesweeper alt in a way that just irritated him to no end.

Minimus was always very good at getting them to lay down flat, though his own were much smaller than Dominus' to begin with. He was also very good at keeping his tail tucked in his subspace, which Dominus always had trouble with. If he hadn't been a load-bearer, there was no way he could have kept up the cover of a non-beastformer for as long as his brother had.

…He missed his brother.

He thought about writing him a letter, but he just didn't have the time. Schedule packed full at all times, the best he could do was to slip in a note in-between the textbooks that he bought and mailed to Minimus.

That was all he could do. Truly.

That was, of course, a bit of a lie. While he truly was dedicated to his work, Dominus kept himself busy all day every day partially to give himself a good excuse to avoid interacting with mecha in his everyday life. Taking a quick break to message Minimus was included in the things he avoided. It's not like Minimus messaged _him_ either.

On the contrary, Lexus contacted him much more frequently. He sent the minimum of updates to satisfy him.

His father was a mech with high expectations. Dominus was determined to surpass them. That was all.

* * *

Lexus had been called to Iacon so frequently as of late, that he had to stay there longer this time. Minimus wasn't given any notice of it until the night before, when Lexus woke him up and told him to help pack his bags.

Blearily, he had complied, and the next thing he knew he was waving as his initiator drove away, with the large silhouette of Delta Magnus' altmode carrying the mech's luggage beside him.

Minimus stood blankly in the mansion for minutes, just processing. He was… alone. Alone. Just him and the little cleaning machine vacuuming up dust in the corner.

Lexus wasn't here. It felt too good to be true.

Truly, truly too good to be true. In the dark of night, Minimus walked out the front door, out into the smooth driveway, past the gallium fountain, past the silver statue of Solomus, and up to the gate separating him and the outside world. 

He curled a hand—or a paw, when had he extended his claws?—around one of the metal bars and looked. And felt.

It was locked. As always.

Minimus sighed and turned back around. Well, there were worse prisons than a lush noble estate. But at least he was alone now. That was freedom in itself.

It was only when he sat back down on his berth that he realised he could transform.

He stood, a rush of energon coursing through him, and began taking off the armour, bit by bit.

He arched his back and reached, pulling his false roof kibble off to let the head of his turbofox alt breathe freely. The plating on his shoulders to make him appear wider was stripped off, as well as the armour around his legs. He stretched his calves out and curled his toes. Oh, that had felt good. He took off the plating around his hips, the ones made to ensure that his tail was hidden even if it wasn't in subspace. That too, he let out.

Sweet Solus. He didn't know if he could bring himself to transform just yet. His poor, unused, t-cog might fall apart if he didn't ease into it.

He let himself fall onto his berth. The soft mesh felt divine on his untouched metal—he'd gotten into the habit of sleeping with his armour still on and now that it was off, he couldn't imagine ever putting it back on.

Oh.

Minimus sunk deeper into the berth. 

Perhaps it was better to not have done this.

* * *

The next time Minimus had gotten a message beyond a simple update was when Dominus was given the gift of an archive.

A _walking_ archive, that is. It would act as both his personal servant and as a data receptacle. A sort of high-tech drone, if you will.

Dominus was quite shocked and horrified to find that his archive was, in fact, a real mech.

(“What is your name?” he had asked.

The archive beeped in alarm. [Uh, well. I'm not really supposed to say.]

“I would like to know it anyway.”

[…It's Rewind,] he said.)

And Minimus read, Dominus had become an advocate for disposable class rights, had developed a test to prove to functionists that those they deemed lesser were, in fact, perfectly sentient, had fallen in love with his partner, and was going to conjunx him, and won't you come to our ceremony, dearest brother, I'd love to have you there?

All in one message.

It seemed that Dominus was unaware of him being locked in. But that was fine. Minimus had figured out long ago that if he transformed into his turbofox alt, he could very easily climb up the wall around the estate and exit Ambustus Minor entirely. He would have to keep a light subspace if he would want to put his armour back on, but that was alright. Minimus did not carry much to begin with.

The true question is, would their initiator be there? Lexus Ambus would not approve of his brother's union, but who was he to protest? Though the mech was an Emirate and in Delta Magnus' good graces, he was still old, worn-down, and nowhere near as liked as Dominus was. And Dominus—though he had mentioned to Minimus that as he grew older, he had become more conscious of the way their initiator had treated him—still loved his father, flaws and all.

Minimus did not want to risk it. He was already risking it, taking trips to the closest city, Rodion, visiting bookshops and eating street food and just—experiencing _life_. Going to Iacon, where his initiator lived, to his brother's wedding was just… Just too much. Even if Dominus did not invite the mech, Minimus… Minimus could not.

He wrote his congratulations in his reply and hit 'send'.

* * *

The next message he got was from Delta Magnus, informing him that Lexus was going to pass away. Minimus, though he felt a deep shame in his spark for it, had rejoiced.

* * *

Dominus did not weep when he saw his initiator on his deathbed. All he could do was put his hand on Lexus' helm and say, “Rest now, Lexus, I shall take care of our House from now on.”

When he left the room, he found Minimus sitting on a chair, reading a datapad.

“Minimus. Will you not come to say goodbye to our father?”

Minimus looked up at him. “You want our initiator to rest in peace, don't you?”

“Yes.” Dominus said, confused.

“Well, there you have it then.”

Minimus got up, put his datapad down, and left the hospital.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this is done for now because i Do Not Know if i am physically capable of writing more but. i will send you off with the promise i make all the goddamn time, which is: Maybe One Day. Maybe one day i'll do it.
> 
> ...but i do wanna write beastformer minimus meeting megatron at rodion after the bar fight and megatron falls in love but minimus leaves all of a sudden :[ it's like cinderella but also not at all like cinderella.


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